


Preachers Would Tell Me I Did It Wrong (What Do I Say to Make Me Exist?)

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Euphoria (TV 2019)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Lesbian Lexi Howard, Repressed Feelings, Teen Angst, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-29 09:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20961038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: Lexi thinks that drinking is probably a bad idea for her.





	Preachers Would Tell Me I Did It Wrong (What Do I Say to Make Me Exist?)

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a song we all know and love: "Still Don't Know My Name" by Labrinth, from the Euphoria soundtrack.

Lexi thinks that drinking is probably a bad idea for her. 

She either gets quiet or loud, never anything in between unless she focuses really,  _ really  _ hard to act sober, and god knows that never works out for her because she’s an always flustered, always obvious lightweight. She knows it too, doesn’t need Cassie to remind her, half-amused, half making fun of her when she stumbles after taking a sip of an extra strong rum and coke Maddy hands off to her in the dim light of a party. It happens every time; Lexi rolls her eyes, feels her mood drop, and tucks deeper and closer and further into herself with every passing minute.

It’s not like she wants to be here anyway, surrounded by heated bodies and strong marijuana that clogs the air and makes her feel like she can’t breathe. She’s tripped over beer cans three times now and the night is playing out just like it always does, leaving her unsatisfied and unsure and sad.

(Sometimes all she feels is sadness.)

Lexi goes into nearly every night out with a hopeless mindset, feeling like she always fails at whatever she wants to do, even if it’s just the sole task of having a good time. She thinks too much and no amount of alcohol provides an escape from that, not even when she’s five shots in and swimming in the loud music, all bass and beat, that encompasses her at whatever house party she’s ended up at. It’s never enough to keep her happy, to keep her social, to keep her feeling like she’s doing the right thing.

She’s pretty sure that every time she opens a bottle she’s doing the exact wrong thing. 

Rue should be a warning to her, an example, a prime reason to not even consider trying to get her senses elevated in any way. She’s practically a walking anti-drug endorsement in her entire existence, and Lexi should know better; she does know better. Yet she doesn’t stop, and she can’t help but wonder, even through the haze of smoke filling the room: what does that mean for her? What does it make her?

It’s not like she’s doing it all on her own autonomy, though. She feels stuck in the rapid cycle of teen culture, helpless to do anything but follow along when she gets invited out; the voice in the back of her head tells her she’s lucky that anyone even notices her in the first place, let alone wants to be in her company. 

Besides, Cassie brings home bottle after bottle of liquor, and Lexi doesn’t have to ask to know how she’s gotten it. They all have their plugs and McKay serves as most of them, his girlfriend and her sister being no exception. Lexi never asks for anything, never even really wants anything, but she’ll still accept the watermelon flavored handle that Cassie outstretches to her after sneaking it into the room. Cassie never says much of anything about it, never asks for Lexi to pay, and Lexi gives Cassie whatever’s leftover, knowing that she’s taking it whenever she needs it anyway. The stash underneath her bed grows larger every week.

And the thing is, Lexi barely drinks. (That’s what she tells herself, at least. She knows what other people do, know about the drugs Cassie and Maddy take at homecoming dances and carnival fairs. She knows about Fez and Ashtray and the people they’re caught up with, the substances that stock the back of the convenience store where M&Ms and Mountain Dew should be but aren’t. And of course, Rue and her habits are a whole other story that Lexi doesn’t feel like she can or should compare anyone to. She doesn’t even want to think about it, quite frankly.)

Lexi only takes shots most of the time. It’s easy, a mirrored movement that seems practically effortless when surrounded by her friends— though sometimes when she’s drunk enough she’ll allow herself to wonder more openly if they’re really her friends. Lexi blends in with the crowd the same way she always has. She feels the way they ignore her, forget about her, and if anything, it just encourages her to drink more. Maybe she’ll end up brazen enough, confident enough to find people that actually care about her. She just needs to open up and speak and  _ try. _

She knows she’s not going to do that though, and she knows that whatever she wants to find is miles away from any place like this. 

She lets the drink burn swiftly, sweetly on the back of her tongue. She tries not to think about her mom, at home coddling her cell phone and a bottle of Merlot, and she doesn’t wonder whether it’s genetic, whether she and Cassie are determined, destined,  _ doomed  _ to be just like her— just like Rue, in a way— swaying and slurring and stumbling through life. 

Lexi doesn’t want that. She doesn’t know if not wanting it is enough to stop her from living it, though.    
Besides, she isn’t quite sure what she  _ does  _ want.

She’s self aware, almost painfully so, but there are certain things she avoids. She’s set subconscious boundary lines around certain topics, certain people, certain feelings, like the one she gets when she sees Rue with Jules, happy and in love and  _ maybe  _ clean. The possibility alone of her best friend (or former best friend, or friend, or maybe even just acquaintance; Lexi isn’t quite sure what they are anymore) being sober is a miracle, and Lexi almost feels more guilty because of it. Not only is she a hypocrite , truly no better herself at abstaining from drugs than Rue (she’s not an addict, but still , her drinking habits are noteworthy even if existent solely out of pressure)  but Lexi finds that she cares more about what happens to Rue than what happens to herself. 

She knows why that is, knows what that makes her — and god, she’s not even alone in it, Rue herself likes girls so maybe if she had been closer, been a better friend, then she’d be in Jules’ place— but she stops herself right there. She isn’t ready to face the truth. Not about that, not right now. 

Despite her reluctance, Lexi knows herself. She knows her flaws, knows what she should and shouldn’t be focusing on — knows that this isn’t it—  but she’s too afraid to change, at least tonight. So she’ll keep drinking, keep dancing, keep swaying. It’s all anyone in this town seems to know how to do, anyways. 

**Author's Note:**

> I relate to Lexi in so many ways and I honestly could have gone on forever in this fic about how she feels, especially about Rue! I hope in season 2 we get a proper backstory and more scenes with her because I truly adore her and how she's a voice of reason amidst all the chaos around her; ever still, she's not perfect and clearly has her own problems that she's dealing with.
> 
> If you enjoyed, please let me know! Feel free to talk to me about Euphoria in the comments or at my Tumblr under the same username, sweeterthankarma!


End file.
